Yeah, I think I love you
by iLucienne
Summary: A new FrUk fanfic! Everyone knows that a French Chef and a plain  ?  Englishman cannot be separated, right? Oh please, just read! Oh, and don't forget to review!


Hello everyone! I'm writing this FrUk fanfic since I miss writing in first person! /

His eyes were that of blueberry pop-tarts.

I hated blueberry pop-tarts

Though… I didn't really hate him. In fact, I felt the exact opposite.

My eyes wandered from the authentic French dish to the authentic French chef. I was in a trance, and I'd tell you, it was difficult to get away from the said trance. Especially if it the trance involved a particular 5"9, 23 year old man in a sexy apron.

"Now we must remember to _not_ boil the carrots before adding it into the pan." He directed, smiling directly at the camera while boasting off his accent, which was perfect by the way.

As I recall, it was around half a week ago. I was waiting for my dumb cousin, who looks nothing like me apparently, to appear while browsing lazily through the channels on TV.

The… _factor_ that attracted me to him was his blond hair. Some that seemed to only appear in operas or musicals of Rapunzel or whatnot. It was wavy and shiny and I really wanted to touch them.

Uh, huh?

I leaned back at the couch I was sitting on and listened to what blond man was saying. I immediately got attracted. To him, not the food. I mean, the food seemed good but, you know. He seemed yummier. Wink , wink.

And it all started there. Before I knew it, I would open the TV daily and immediately click to channel 42, relieved to see him on the screen.

"Arthuuuuuuuuur!" Antonio screamed through the phone. Why did I pick up again?

"What?" I practically scoffed. Goodness, my cousin could be one pain in the ass.

"I have to talk to youuu~!" He replied.

"Can you stop elongating the syllables? And, why do you have to talk to me? You know I'm busy." Busy watching Frenchie here bake some yummy looking Passion Fruit cake.

"B-but it's important! Really!"

"Tell me what it is first." I answered, taking a spoonful of the scone Alfred sent him.

"W-well, uh…" He stuttered, "Ah, I-um, have a…"

"A..?" I gasped when I caught Frenchie wink at the camera. Gay, I know.

"A girlfriend. Her name's Romana. She's Italian." I was wondering if the reason why he told me that she's Italian is to piss me off or something. But I gotta say… my ears perked up a bit.

Antonio is good looking. Really, good looking. That's why it's no surprise when he calls me saying he has a girlfriend.

"So what makes her different from the other ones you've dated? Other than the fact that they're sluts." I nodded. I remember those instances when Antonio would knock at my door in the middle of the night crying loudly unless I open the door. So then I've got no choice. I'd let him in and we'd have to talk about how his girlfriend cheated on him with another dude who's apparently got more abs than he does. I know what you're thinking. Why didn't I just kick the guy out?

Well, he's my only relative left and that's the same for him. We've only got each other and I don't think I could take it if he was gone too.

"Well, she courted me." I could feel him grinning through the phone.

This made me raise my eyebrow.

"Oh? Now _that's_ interesting." I replied, placing my plate of scones on the nearby table.

He laughed saying, "I know. And I'd like you to meet her. Tonight?"

I glanced at the TV where Frenchie was already finishing up with the embellishments of the cake. Around five to seven minutes he'd be saying goodbye.

"Alright."

Seriously, Antonio had a good taste. In almost everything actually.

We had dinner in _Crimson_, which I heard would cost like buying a Louis Vuitton per meal. This girl must be pretty special. Though, when I met Romana, my first impression of her was snobbish. Hey, you couldn't blame me.

"Arthur!" Antonio waved frantically when he saw me enter the restaurant. They were seated in the far end of the restaurant where it was less noisy.

I walked towards them and noticed that the girl beside him had good taste too. Her baby blue Valentino cocktail dress complimented her wavy brown locks. She had a matching light blue embellished headband.

Antonio rose from his seat and approached me. He whispered, "Isn't she gorgeous?" then looked back to glance at the sipping Romana. I just nodded, still eyeing the girl.

We sat down and I picked up the menu to order for myself.

That was when I saw him.

I told you it was that wavy mane that stood out. But I couldn't care less at the moment.

Who was that girl with him?

_To be continued…_


End file.
